" i- , \ "'- ì / -- - - ) - .. '-b 20 her clothes. They never touched her once. "Books maybe," Flassy said. The girl was looking at the book page of the paper. "Ask her she likes books." "That's an idea." Lou leaned toward the girl. "You like books, Miss?" The girl read on stonily. "Tell her I read a book once," Flassy said. "Very good, too." "I don't think she likes us, Flassy," Lou said. "No, no. That's too hasty. It's only books she don't like." Flassy peered at the paper in the girl's hands. It was open at the theatrical page. "I know what she likes. She likes Ethel Barrymore. Ask h " ere Lou leaned toward the girl. "There's a rumor going around you like Ethel Barrymore. You hke Ethel Barrymore, Miss? " The girl turned the page calmly. She had recovered from her original sur- p rIse. "She don't like Ethel Barrymore," Lou said. ,eJ ohn, maybe. .L-\sk her she likes John." "p ardon me, M iss. You like John? John Barrymore?" No answer. "She don't like] ohn, either." "Maybe because he's married. You ask her this time, Gus," said Lou to the man in the rear. Gus leaned forward to look down on . the girl. "You don't like John because he's married, Miss? n he asked. \ \ \ \ 4' _ ('--, .,- JL-. r Flassy nudged his arm. "Tell her we can fix that," he said. "Miss, you don't like John because he's married, we can fix that," said Gus. "You want us to fix that?" The girl turned a page carefully. "Maybe we wouldn't have to fix that," Lou said. "You know John." "That's right. The way John is, may- be by this time we won't have to fix tha t," said Flassy. Gus shook his head. "I'm afraid it's not John, fellas." "Vlho then? Bob?" "Bob? Yeah, well, maybe. It could be Bob." "Bob who? Which Bob?" asked Flassy. Lou seemed surprised. "That's a question to ask? A pretty girl like this, a pretty girl with sucha nice clothes, which Bob would it be? Use your head. " "All right with my head. But it could be two Bobs. It could be Taylor. It could be Montgomery." Gus shook his head at him. "Flassy," he said, "you surprise me. Honest. A girl like this you say Taylor? \Vith a girl like this Taylor hasn't got a chance. A Chinaman's chance. This is a Montgomery girl, Flassy." Flassy shrugged. "Maybe," he said. "I could be wrong. I was wrong once. But how I could be wrong with a girl like this, I don't know. Montgomery? Better ask her." Lou leaned over. "Pardon me, Miss. There is an argument here. \Ve decid- ø - , / ;. " 6';, ( r --... -- -::.'":::::..:.::.:--. t/& - /2" H:- .>1 ! :/ '-- ..........,."'- 'i) "Why, Rzchard Honey ell, I believe you're jealous!" ed with you it's a Bob. But question: i\re you a Taylor or a Montgomery? Which? " The girl turned another page and rustled the paper Into comfortable read- ing position. "You know what I think, fellas?" Gus said. He was looking across her shoulder at the paper. "What? " "I think we're getting no place very fast. " Flassy looked shocked. "I can't be- lieve that," he said. "That's impossible. Why should you say a thing like that?" Lou pointed at the paper. "She's reading the editorials," he said. FI . d " Ed ' . I " assy was lmpresse . Itona s, he said. He shook his head. "I'll ad- mit it looks bad. Editorials. My God!" He turned to look out across the benches toward the lake. A small Negro boy of seven or eight was walking idly down the lane toward the water. "Hey!" Flassy called. "Hey, Joe L . I " OUIS . The small boy turned quickly. "C'm 'ere, kid," Flassy said. He mo- tioned toward the bench with his hand. " s h . I k " omet lng wanna as you. The boy came up shyly. He seemed a little frightened, but not much. He was wearing a half-sleeved light-blue jump- er that fastened to the top of his short pants with large white buttons. His knees were bare and looked startlingly thin and fragile. "Yes, suh?" he said timidly. "You wanna make a nickel?" Flassy asked. "Yes, suh," the boy said eagerly. "Find out first he's got working " G . d pa pe rs, us sal . "Flassy wants him only for a sma]] job," Lou said. "For what Flassy wants him, he don't need no working papers." "That's right," Flassy said. "What I want you for, it'll take a minute. Easiest nickel you ever made, Joe Louis." "I don't think his name is Joe Louis," Gus said. The girl rustled the paper as she turned a page. "Better work fast, Flassy," Lou said. "She's getting i patient." "A pretty girl like that," Gus said, "she's got a right to be impatient. 1 ' He leaned toward the girL "You go ahead and be impatient, Miss. You got a right. " The girl's lip curled slightly as she read through the Times obituaries. "I'm workIng fast as I can," Flassy said. "This is a delicate situation. Has to be handled with kid glove . I got-